


My Boy Builds Coffins

by twoturtlesinabathtub



Series: Flight Patterns [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Brief Body Horror Metaphor, Dissociation, F/M, Robin doesn’t really die but the characters don’t know that, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 14:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21429469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoturtlesinabathtub/pseuds/twoturtlesinabathtub
Summary: She was fizzling out of sight right in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t understand why everyone else was so upset over it.She wasn’treallyleaving. Right?
Relationships: Henry/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Series: Flight Patterns [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/879900
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	My Boy Builds Coffins

**Author's Note:**

> My boy builds coffins, he makes them all day  
But it’s not just for work and it isn’t for play  
He’s made one for himself  
One for me, too  
And one of these days he’ll make one for you
> 
> _-Florence + The Machine_

He was drawn by Chrom’s shout of Robin’s name, the prince’s voice ringing out in anguish from several yards away. Henry looked up from where he’d been idly examining an arrow-riddled corpse. What was all the hubbub?

The enemies had been defeated. Grima was dead. Why did Chrom sound so sad? This was a time for celebration, for laughing and cheering, if Henry had ever known one. He couldn’t imagine whatever Chrom was yelling about to be a big deal. Curious, Henry leisurely made the walk up the dragon’s back. He saw Chrom kneeling down, bent over someone, and Henry recognized the other person’s pretty purple coat immediately.

Robin. She wasn’t moving.

Oh.

What happened?

Henry hurried the rest of the way and kneeled down as well, on the opposite side of Chrom. “What happened?” he echoed to the prince. Chrom didn’t seem to hear him, his shoulders shaking and his breathing stuttering uncontrollably. When he didn’t respond, Henry looked back down at the tactician. He bent over her, pushing lightly at Robin’s shoulder. It felt kind of...weird. Almost like part of his hand had passed through her. What the heck? Had someone hit her with a spell to make her this way? Was she playing a trick on them? What _happened_? “Hey, c’mon, Robin. We need to ditch this ride.”

Robin sounded like she was attempting to respond, but her voice didn’t sound right—it was like she could barely breathe, like she was in pain. 

Henry grew vaguely alarmed. Was this unknown magic hurting her? “You’re sounding pretty funky right now. Something in your throat?” His head began to pound. “This isn’t very funny,” he said to her, his voice rising in volume.

“Henry.” Chrom’s voice was low, strained.

“Yeah?”

“What are you—”

Henry glanced up at him quizzically. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?” Chrom looked at him in something akin to revulsion. Henry had received that look plenty of times in his life—he knew how to recognize it.

He looked back down and tried shaking Robin’s shoulder again. “Heeey, are you falling asleep? No naps on the battlefield unless you wanna die, nya ha!” She didn’t respond, her eyes snapping shut as her body spasmed, her throat making noises that sent a frigid chill up Henry’s spine. 

Chrom’s hand went up to stroke Robin's hair back from her sweaty face. “Open your eyes,” he choked out. “Please—open your eyes!”

Henry stared at the prince pensively, a little annoyed that he was touching her when she didn’t say he could. Hmm. If Chrom was freaking out this much, then maybe Henry should go find someone who could help figure out why Robin was acting the way she was. 

He stood up quickly, dusting off his knees. “Be right back!” he called from over his shoulder. Looking around on the slowly descending battleground, he spotted Morgan, who was speaking intently with Inigo and Brady. Henry trotted over to to the group. “Hey, kiddo!” Morgan turned to look at him, then did a double-take, staring at his father’s face. The young man turned white as a sheet. Was Henry making a face? Well, he couldn’t _see_ his face, so he wasn’t sure.

“Dad...what’s wrong?” Morgan asked, unmistakable dread seeping into his voice. “What’s going on?”

“It’s your mom,” Henry explained. “Something happened.” Morgan’s eyes bugged, and without another word, he shot forward, sprinting up Grima’s back, nearly tripping over his oversized coat in his haste.

Henry blinked owlishly, following after his son. By the time he got close enough to see what was going on, he saw that Morgan was by Robin's side, kneeled over her with his face in his hands. Henry heard muffled sobs slipping out from between the boy’s fingers. The chill in his spine froze solid.

With Chrom on Robin’s right, Morgan on her left, Henry couldn’t get close to her. He could barely see her face. The sorcerer saw what looked like flames around Robin, _on_ Robin, as she mumbled to Chrom quietly.

All of a sudden, she vanished from sight, leaving no trace behind.

Oh, wow. He’d never seen that before. Well, when she came back—it would probably be soon, right?—he’d have to ask her how she’d done such a neat trick. It would be great at parties.

Morgan, Chrom, and Henry remained motionless as Grima’s descent continued relentlessly.

~.~.~

The next thing Henry knew, the Shepherds were standing in an open field, the setting sun casting them all in an eerie, orange light. It was almost kind of pretty. The entire group was silent as the grave. Henry felt eyes on him from all angles. He cocked his head at Chrom, who was standing a few feet from him, his shoulders hunched and head bowed.

Henry’s voice broke the silence. “So, where’d she go?”

“...She’s gone,” said Chrom gruffly, looking at Henry like he was either an idiot, or a monster, or both. “Dead.”

Hold up.

Robin’s _dead_? Why would Chrom say that? Henry kind of felt like he’d been decapitated, and his head was slowly floating away from his body.

No. That couldn’t be right. Robin would be back, and soon. She _would_. She’d made him promise that they’d be together forever. They’d promised. They had—Henry remembered it, remembered that moment, the moment she’d said it as he’d slipped the ring on her finger. They’d promised. How could they be together _forever_ if she was gone? That’s not how forever works, right? Henry was breathing, but he also couldn’t breathe. His spine was still frozen. He couldn’t move.

“She was asking for you,” Chrom said slowly, his gaze boring into Henry’s blank eyes. “She was asking for you, and you weren’t _there_.” The prince’s voice was positively venomous, and Henry just continued to stare at Chrom’s blotchy face.

“Huh?” was all he managed to say. 

Morgan suddenly rushed him, and the force of his hug almost sent Henry keeling over. “Dad....” he sniffled miserably, his voice breaking on yet another sob.

Watching the display, Chrom’s face began to soften, though he was still crying a bit. He slowly approached the husband and son, and put a heavy hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to look up from the ground. “I am so, so sorry.”

“Aw, it’s okay. She’ll be back,” Henry said, his voice still chipper, his head floating farther and farther away. “She’ll be back.”

“D-Dad, I...” Morgan’s arms tightened around Henry, so tightly that the sorcerer couldn’t bring his own up to hug his son back. Gee, the kid really was overreacting.

“She’ll be back.” Was that his voice? Did he just say that? Henry couldn’t tell. He heard the voice again, parroting, saying the exact same thing. It was only when his throat went dry that he realized the words were still coming out of him. He should probably stop talking. Probably stop staring at nothing. Probably try to comfort his son—though why Morgan should need comforting was beyond him. This was no big deal. So why couldn’t he really tell what around him was real?

Henry just needed to try to find a way to get his head back. It was still floating away. Maybe Robin could help him find it.

She’d be back any second, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This fits into the timeline of my fic _Search Parties_, where I write that Henry’s in complete denial for several weeks after Robin’s apparent death. He dissociates from the situation and it doesn’t hit him at first that she’s truly gone.


End file.
